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We carved our names in marble days, Counted years like endless praise, Built our towers from borrowed breath, Called it life, but tasted death. Every candle burned too fast, Every crown was made of past, We never heard the footsteps near, We only heard our own cheer. Gold was loud in palace light, Wine erased the fear of night, But the walls began to learn a tongue That kings could not outrun. Numbers whispered through the stone, Scales were set, the weight was known, The air grew still, the laughter fled, Time itself was almost dead. Every throne must face the scale, Every boast must learn to fail, What you build with trembling hands Must answer to eternal plans. We were numbered in the darkness, We were measured in the flame, We were weighed and found too hollow To sustain a lasting name. What we ruled was only dust, What we trusted turned to sand, And the night became a verdict Written by a higher hand. Swords were quiet in the hall, But the kingdom heard the call, Crowns lay waiting for the dawn That another name would own. What was split could not be sealed, What was judged could not be healed, Power passed like fading breath, From living kings to silent death. Not every fall is loud with fire, Not every end is slow, Some are spoken in a sentence That only heaven knows. A word can end an empire’s reign, A whisper can divide, The weight of God upon a crown Is heavier than pride. We were numbered in the night wind, We were tested by the light, We were weighed against forever And could not win the fight. What we held was only moment, What we lost was breath and land, For the night became a sentence From an unseen, judging hand. So hear the silence after songs, And watch the lamps grow dim, For kingdoms fall in quiet ways When God finishes with them. The wall still waits for future ink, The scales are never gone— What was weighed in ancient halls Still measures everyone.